Far Beyond Scandalous by Bethany Sefchick

sad
smile he had offered her earlier rather than the grim slash of line that was
his mouth.
    Amy
was momentarily at a loss, and above all, confused.   There was something not right, a piece of the puzzle she was
still missing.   Gibson was distant now,
and still standing apart from her, the teasing side of him vanishing the moment
she mentioned the estate and its operation.   Did he require something of her that she did not know to offer?
    "What
do you need from me?"   She paused
and waited for him to reply, but when he did not, she continued on.   "Obviously, the estate is in capable
hands and shall remain thus.   But there
is something you are not telling me, Gibbs, and I need to know what it is.   Or, if it is not the estate, then what?   Are you worried about how I shall survive
for a time without my mother?"  
    Amy
did feel herself at something of a loss.   If she did not have to run Cheltenham, something she had been preparing
herself for all night, then what did she do with her time?   There was only so much needlework a lady could
do, and it would be unseemly to keep up the schedule that she had been in the
weeks prior to her mother's illness.   Was he worried about how she would entertain herself?   Well, she was a grown woman, not a
child.   She would survive quite nicely,
thank you very much.
    Moving
back to her father's desk with a sigh, Gibson shuffled through the papers
Michaels had given him before pulling one from the stack.   It was older than the rest, yellowed at the
corners and starting to curl.   "For
a start, perhaps you can give me some insight into this particular
document.   That is the only thing I do
not understand about the estate papers and it troubles me.   Greatly."
    He
held out the paper, and Amy rose to take it from him, immediately recognizing
her father's handwriting.   It was far
straighter and bolder than his current hand, indicating that it had been
written many years ago, before a fall from a horse had shifted the bones in his
right hand.   "According to this
directive, you are to remain out in society at all times, living the life of a
debutante until you marry.   If no one
else, including your mother, can see to your societal needs, then it falls
under Michaels' direction unless there is another suitable male escort
available."   He raised that
singular eyebrow again.   "Is there
something I do not know, my lady?"
    Frowning,
Amy studied the paper, trying to repress the bit of anger that flared in her
when he called her "my lady," at least when they were in
private.   He knew it irked her, and,
given their passionate kiss the previous night, she found it all a bit
odd.   In one moment they were locked in
a passionate embrace, and in another, they were so stiff and formal, it was as
if they had never met, let alone seen each other naked.   At the moment, however, there were more
important things to worry about than confused hearts, it seemed.
    The
missive, penned and signed by her father, was short and to the point.   At no time was Lady Amy Cheltenham to be out
of society for more than a day or two unless she was ill.   It was so imperative that funds had been
specifically set aside in the event of an emergency that would support her and
her entertainments until she wed.   Those
funds, it was noted, were separate from her dowry.   It was also rather clear that whoever was in charge of the
earldom, and in this case Michaels believed it was Marcus, was to see to it
that the directive was carried out.   Even if it meant employing one of Lady Berkshire's infamous gray-gowned
chaperones and badgering some poor, hapless male to accomplish the task.
    "I
do not understand," Amy said finally, handing the paper back to Gibson
with a shake of her head.   "That
makes no sense.   Why would such a
directive be necessary?"   It could,
she supposed, be related to her past, but it was unlikely.   There was no logical connection, and anyway,
the entire event was